


In the middle while you two get along

by messwithlove, nichestars



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Mention of Surgery, Multi, Polyamory Negotiations, jyn riding a good face - freeform, mention of amputation, mention of body trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-27
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2019-01-05 23:57:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12199854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/messwithlove/pseuds/messwithlove, https://archiveofourown.org/users/nichestars/pseuds/nichestars
Summary: When they’re not in common spaces, Jyn and Cassian and Bodhi spend most of their time in Cassian’s quarters: after Scarif and their collective few weeks in med under observation for potential radiation side effects, it was easy enough for Cassian to pull rank and get officer’s quarters, away from the commotion of the barracks on base. To this day, Bodhi hasn’t slept in his assigned cot once, and he shares a trunk with Jyn to store the few things he owns.





	In the middle while you two get along

**Author's Note:**

> We so hope you enjoy this! We had a blast writing it.
> 
> For the prompts “cassian andor/bodhi rook/jyn erso” and “anything involving bodhi rook having a good time and being happy and love.” Title from Dodie's "In the Middle."

Bodhi is one of the last people milling about in the hangar, oblivious to the fact that the mess started serving dinner twenty minutes ago, when Skywalker’s astromech rolls by and trills something about the last one out smelling like bantha poo. 

“Don’t be rude, Artoo,” comes Luke’s voice after, and Bodhi laughs, drops the screwdriver he’s been using to prod at an engine. “You don’t even have scent sensors, buddy.”

Bodhi reaches in his pocket for his mostly-clean handkerchief, wipes at his face and grimaces at the oil smudges it picks up. Force, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until just now. “Right behind you, droid,” he calls back. The stitches on his arm, mostly absorbed under their bandages now, are getting itchy; he’ll need to redress it after supper.

There’s a line when he makes it to the mess, but before he can join the stragglers, a hand snags the loop of his tool belt, tugging him the opposite direction. Jyn grins up at him. “We’ve already got seats,” she informs him. “And Cassian had them keep a plate warm for you.” 

She guides him through the crowd to a table just off the counter where they put out the coolers of blue milk and caf: prime real estate, when everyone here exists off fumes and caf in approximately equal measure. 

Cassian is hunched over two plates as if he expects someone to steal one, and he looks relieved as Bodhi takes a seat, pushes one of them over. “Thought you might’ve forgotten.” 

“That only happened _once_ ,” Bodhi sighs. He bumps his shoulder against Cassian’s anyway, a quiet sort of thanks.

“He was too busy being Luke Skywalker’s best friend,” Jyn ribs him, pinching off the soft inside of her bread and dipping it in her stew. Cassian quirks an eyebrow. Across the room, two mechanics are loudly trying to get Skywalker to cut ahead of them in line.

“Everyone is Luke Skywalker’s best friend,” Bodhi shrugs, trying to shimmy his shirtsleeve up his arm. Without comment, Cassian reaches over, cuffing it easily. Thankful, Bodhi nods, and picks up his spoon. 

“That kid is too pretty for his own good,” Cassian grumbles.

“Bodhi and I can go sit somewhere else,” Jyn smirks.

“Last thing I wanna do is get mixed up in _that_ ,” Cassian gestures. When Bodhi looks up, Han Solo has somehow gotten involved in the encounter between Skywalker and the mechanics. “Especially with Senator Organa in the mix. That’s trouble.”

Bodhi considers around a spoonful of soup. “You’re the only one who calls her that.” Cassian glances at him, and Bodhi shrugs. “Everyone else calls her princess.”

“Cassian calls her that because they have _history_ ,” Jyn says, eyebrows adding quotation marks to the word. 

“I call her that because it’s her _title_ ,” Cassian insists, flicks a breadcrumb at Jyn. “I’m not trying to get into her pants like Solo.” Bodhi’s still not entirely clear on what Jyn means by _history_. Still, Jyn and Cassian get things out of each other that they don’t always share, somewhere in the arguments and the bickering. Bodhi’s willing to figure those secrets out on his own, or wait to be told, if it means staying clear of the confrontations. 

“You’d probably have an easier time of it,” Jyn laughs. 

Cassian’s face relaxes, the wrinkles around his eyes turning upwards. “I’ve got my hands full, I think.” 

“Much too busy to get involved in that,” Jyn nods, mopping up the last of her stew with bread. She looks up at both of them between her lashes, smiles. “I’m tired,” she says, suddenly.

“I need to change my dressings,” Bodhi nods. His bowl is still mostly full. “Back to yours, Captain?”

Cassian looks between them, and then pointedly at Bodhi's bowl of soup. "If you'll bring that."

Bodhi laughs. “I’m not _leaving_ it.” He can bring the bowl back in the morning if it means Cassian will get off his case.

Cassian nods, satisfied, and clears their empty dishes onto a tray as Bodhi picks up his bowl and follows Jyn.

When they’re not in common spaces, Jyn and Cassian and Bodhi spend most of their time in Cassian’s quarters: after Scarif and their collective few weeks in med under observation for potential radiation side effects, it was easy enough for Cassian to pull rank and get officer’s quarters, away from the commotion of the barracks on base. To this day, Bodhi hasn’t slept in his assigned cot once, and he shares a trunk with Jyn to store the few things he owns.

The bed is a double wide cot, with a pull out below—it's what partners and families on base are assigned from the commissary. Between their different shifts and duties, and the fact Cassian barely sleeps, they haven't had an issue with the bed yet. Bodhi and Jyn fit in it just fine, and on the rare nights all three of them come back to the room, Cassian joining them hasn't been uncomfortable. 

“Should’ve stuck a straw in that for you,” Jyn nudges Bodhi’s side, gently, and gestures at the bowl of soup in his hand.

“I don’t mind the wait,” Bodhi shrugs. He’s not sure a prosthesis would help in this case, either, given the limited resources on base.

Cassian is three steps ahead, all business, already has his keyslot activator out to scan as they approach the hall of officer’s quarters. “I have a spoon in my kit,” he says, not bothering to look back. 

Sure enough when they get in he digs through the go-kit at the foot of the bed and finds a plasti-ware spoon that he offers to Bodhi. “You promised you’d finish that,” he reminds Bodhi, pointing at the soup.

“I’m working on it,” Bodhi sighs, takes the seat at the small desk they use mostly as a catch-all table. His soup is still lukewarm when he pointedly sips a spoonful, looking at Cassian.

Jyn wraps an arm around Cassian’s middle, herds him towards the bed. “Let him be, Cassian,” she says, placating.

“I’m just trying to make sure he doesn’t waste away,” Cassian says. 

Despite any mild annoyance he might show on the surface, Bodhi can admit to himself that he kind of likes the coddling. He thinks Cassian probably gets it from his mama, but he hasn’t dared to say so. Yet.

“He’s a grown man,” Jyn says, grumpy on his behalf. 

“I just–” Cassian huffs. “Don’t want anyone back in medical.” 

“Less likely to need to go back if you help me redress this,” Bodhi points out, waves his injured arm at Cassian. It now stops just below his elbow, as of Scarif, bandaged in thick bacta patches. “Itchy. Too busy eating.”

“Come on,” Cassian says, to Jyn, and they unwrap it between them, nesting around Bodhi like two overgrown, anxious birds. Jyn wipes it down with antiseptic wipes, and Cassian bandages it again, slow and careful, in soft fabri-tape this time, to let it breathe a little in the night. 

The first few times Bodhi had his bandages removed after leaving the med bay he’d gotten dizzy, head swimming and fingertips going ice cold. He’s much better at it now that most of the stitches have reabsorbed. He finishes his soup in the time it takes for Cassian and Jyn to treat him and gives them each a grateful kiss on the cheek for their troubles.

Jyn beams, and turns quick enough that he catches the corner of her mouth, and Cassian looks sheepish and turns in the opposite direction, makes Bodhi catch his arm and pull him back.

“Can’t coddle me and then not let me thank you for it,” Bodhi frowns. He makes Cassian linger, awkwardly half-bent over, and nuzzles his cheek. “I’m ready to get in bed now, I think.”

“You think?” Jyn’s hand is curled possessively over his knee, stroking almost-ticklish. 

Bodhi rolls his eyes. “I do,” he insists.

“Jyn,” Cassian says, gently, and Jyn rolls her eyes, gives Bodhi a look—they both could point out how Jyn only just got done telling Cassian not to give him a hard time, and now he’s one to talk, but… neither will. 

Bodhi leaves his bowl on the desk, slinks away from between Jyn and Cassian to kick his boots off and wriggle out of his trousers. They could spend the whole night bickering if no one took initiative, and Bodhi’s more than happy to set an example.

As usual, Jyn follows first, stripping out of her vest quickly, hunching over to untie her boots.

Cassian folds, enviably graceful even with his fucked-up leg, to ease her foot up, fingers undoing the gnarled laces of her boot faster than she could, and Bodhi takes a second to watch them, their silly performative grumbling at each other and the softness beneath.

Bodhi crawls up just off the middle of the cots, carefully avoiding the seam, and sits with his bare legs outstretched. “Well?” He asks, grinning up at Cassian and Jyn.

“Well,” Jyn says, and whistles, low under her breath, eyes sparkling.

“Come and kiss me,” Bodhi mumbles, makes a grabby hand at Jyn. It’s been a long day.

“Go on,” Cassian says, when Jyn hesitates for a moment, and she nods, crawls onto the mattress and drapes herself over Bodhi. 

She grins, pushing a strand of hair off Bodhi’s face. “Hi, handsome.” 

“Kriff,” Bodhi says, feels himself flush hot, bright pink at the cheeks. “Hey, hi.”

Jyn kisses the blush off, right cheek then left, ending at his mouth and nibbling at his lower lip. “Hi.”

Bodhi raises his hand up to Jyn’s neck, thumbs at her jawline as they kiss, happily following her lead.

Jyn is never the first one to pull back for air, and he has to ease her back gently after a minute so they can pant against each other’s mouths. It’s then that Bodhi realizes Cassian’s at his side, happy to watch the two of them quietly, for now.

“You’re relentless,” Cassian marvels at Jyn, even as she dives back in to peck Bodhi’s lips. 

Bodhi can only groan his agreement, just trying to keep up.

Jyn’s presses satisfied hum against Bodhi’s mouth. Bodhi suspects she does this to make Cassian jealous as much as she does to overwhelm Bodhi, can already predict their reactions in almost any scenario, especially if kissing is involved and clothes aren’t.

Cassian can wait her out, though, in a way Bodhi won’t ever understand. He’d melt like blue butter for Jyn -- does, sinking back against the mattress and letting her settle more heavily over him. 

It's one of the few times Bodhi doesn't feel like he's missing something. They don't let him think long enough for that. Instead he moves his hand down to Jyn’s lower back, sneaks his hand underneath her tunic, fingertips at the base of her spine. At his side, Cassian starts tugging at the hem of Bodhi’s shirt, quietly determined to get him out of his clothes, even pinned under Jyn as he is.

“Good,” Jyn mutters, and Bodhi agrees, leaning up to give Cassian room -- and to kiss Jyn’s red-bitten lips again.

Jyn helps Cassian with Bodhi’s shirt, sits up when it’s shoved under Bodhi’s armpits to carefully help him out of it. She takes a quick half-moment to pull her own top over her head, spreads her hands over Bodhi’s narrow waist. “There we go,” Cassian grins.

“Yours is still on,” Bodhi points out, leans sideways to nudge Cassian’s shoulder with his own. “Keep up, man.”

Cassian makes a dismissive noise, ducks his head. “You're the one she wants to see.”

Jyn gives Bodhi a _look_ , and shakes her head minutely. Bodhi is quietly relieved she isn't going to argue. “You're the one Bodhi wants to see,” she says instead, her mouth shaping the words to Cassian even if she still isn't looking in his direction. 

“I want to see both of you,” Bodhi interjects. There's a funny line between feeling good to be the toy dangled between them and feeling uncomfortable.

Cassian quietly acquiesces, leaning away momentarily to drop his shirt off the edge of the bed. When he turns back he moves even closer, somehow, to Bodhi, and gently presses his nose to Bodhi’s cheek. “You can have whatever you need,” he says.

“Oh, he can have _whatever_?” Jyn’s tone is teasing, and closer too, her face blurry with proximity when Bodhi turns to look at her. 

“Anything,” Cassian confirms. From this close to both of them, Bodhi can barely see Cassian’s quirked eyebrow, but he knows it’s there.

Bodhi licks his lips. “I wanna get fucked by both of you, I think,” he says, soft. “Like, just. I want both of you.”

Cassian looks to Jyn, not quite hesitating, but expectant. 

Jyn straddles Bodhi’s waist, her knee wedged between his ribs and Cassian’s, and grins down at him. “That's it? No detailed preferences? Just a man of simple needs, Rook?”

“I trust you’ll know,” Bodhi nods, turns his head sideways to kiss whatever bit of Cassian’s face he can land on, somewhere below his eye. The skin there is delicate, a reminder of the grafts and immersion therapy they all endured in the previous months.

Cassian tips his chin up to kiss Bodhi properly, deep and slow like he’s chasing the taste of Jyn’s mouth.

Maybe he is. Bodhi doesn't mind being their intermediary like this. 

“I think,” Jyn says, and Bodhi shivers as she drags her fingernails down his chest, “I’m gonna use your mouth, yeah? Can I?”

“That’s fucking,” Cassian backs her up, his words nearly slurring against Bodhi’s mouth. “It counts.”

Bodhi wasn't going to argue the point. He nods, trying to reach Cassian’s mouth again. Both Cassian and Jyn get distracted too easily. 

Jyn huffs above them, rises up off her heels to start undoing her flies. “Cassian can do some other sort of fucking, probably, in the meantime,” she suggests. “You’d like that, hm?”

Bodhi means to bite his lip, but ends up closing his teeth over Cassian’s instead. 

Cassian laughs, short and sweeter for its unexpectedness. Bodhi’s pretty sure he hasn’t drawn blood, but he pulls away to check, just in case.

“I’m okay,” Cassian licks his swollen lips, looks at Bodhi with big, hopeful eyes. “Can I?”

Bodhi nods, quickly. Words are all scrambling in his brain, piling up at the back of his throat. 

“Sweetheart,” Jyn says, like she's already said it once, and maybe Bodhi wasn't paying attention. “Can you lie down flat for me?” She's gotten her trousers down around one knee, the other leg entirely bare, and is watching him patiently. Bodhi's eyes snap back up out of habit. 

Cassian helps, shoving pillows and leaning back to give Bodhi wiggle room. “You should get some slick for him,” Jyn nods at Cassian.

Bodhi watches Cassian's slim shoulders and the muscles of his back move as he scoots across the mattress and leaves the bed. He's almost disappointed when Jyn gently straddles his shoulders, blocking the view: almost, except this view is admittedly better.

“Kriff,” Bodhi groans. He doesn’t miss the way Jyn legs twitch. She’s so close the scent of her cunt is heavy on his tongue before he’s even had a chance to taste her.

Jyn doesn't say anything, just shifts, easing her weight down carefully, supporting herself with a hand on the mattress and the other carefully resting in Bodhi’s hair. 

“Ah, kriff,” Cassian echoes a moment later, and Bodhi can only assume it’s at the view. He imagines Jyn must look even more incredible when you can see all of her in focus at once. 

“Bodhi.” Jyn’s voice is kind, and her fingers twist in his hair gently. 

“Yeah,” Bodhi sighs, tips his chin up for her, tongue out. She’s in charge.

The bed dips as Cassian rejoins them, and Jyn's knee slides on the sheets. It's the last quarter inch Bodhi needed, and he sighs in relief as she settles, instead of trying to regain her position. Bodhi presses an open-mouthed kiss to her cunt, sticky and warm and overwhelming.

“Go on,” Cassian says, somewhere nearby, and Bodhi’s legs relax, starfishing on the bed. He hadn't even noticed he'd been tensing them. 

Jyn tastes sweet and sour and perfect, and Bodhi inhales through his nose to avoid taking his mouth off her. 

“Bodhi, up a little-- like that,” Jyn directs him from above, tightens her fingers in Bodhi’s hair when she can get him where she wants him, sucking at her clit. She raises her free hand to her breast, pinching her nipple, and nods.

“Look so kriffing good.” Cassian’s hand squeezes Bodhi’s arm suddenly, calloused fingertips making him wriggle. 

Bodhi hums, looks up and catches Jyn’s eyes for a moment, looking for her approval, too. 

“You should-- go on, Cassian,” she says, nodding, “wanna see if I can tell from here.”

Cassian’s hand curls around Bodhi’s wrist, fingers squeezing Bodhi’s for a moment, and then he moves down the mattress, settles on his knees between Bodhi’s legs. Bodhi hears the faint snick of a bottle opening. 

“Babe,” Jyn says, chin against her chest, looking down at Bodhi. He sighs happily in response, and Jyn gives his hair a sharp little tug.

He presses his tongue up against her the way she likes, letting her grind down against his face at her own rhythm, and breathes through his nose. This has been more relaxing than sleep, lately, being able to lose himself in Jyn and Cassian. 

Bodhi closes his eyes at the feel of Cassian’s slick fingertips pressing behind his balls. “That was quick,” Jyn says above him, and Cassian huffs a fond laugh. “We’ve got you, Bodhi, hey.”

“Mmph,” Bodhi grumbles. Closing his eyes totally doesn’t count, but it’s not like Jyn will give him enough time to actually protest, not when her thighs are starting to tense up with how close she must be.

He tries to focus on her: her smell and the softness of her skin against his jaw and the _heat_ of her against his tongue. She’s so good to him and he should be able to -- only Cassian’s fingers are tucked up just right inside him, and he didn’t even notice and now it’s _all_ he can notice, shivering. 

Jyn grinds down against his mouth, swearing, and Bodhi can just barely hear it through the white noise in his ears and the grip of her thighs either side of his head. 

“Kriffing hell,” Cassian says, faintly. Jyn’s cunt pulses against Bodhi’s tongue and the slick runs down his chin, messy and perfect.

“Good,” Jyn breathes, and Bodhi isn’t sure how he can hear her until he realizes she’s lifting away from him, trying to give him room. He grabs at her thighs with both arms, words not coming quick enough. His good hand curls at her hip, and Jyn looks down at him, her face sweaty and incredulous. 

“She’s just letting you breathe,” Cassian says, gently, and the hand not between Bodhi’s legs soothes at his stomach, fingers slotting over his ribs. Bodhi hadn’t realized he was panting, either. 

Bodhi licks his lips, tips his head back into the pillows, and breathes. Jyn brushes a strand of hair off his forehead, pets his overheated cheeks with cool fingertips. “There, Bodhi,” she soothes. “So damn good.”

“So good,” Cassian agrees, and Bodhi feels like he could float up to the ceiling with how warm their praise sits in his stomach. 

“Okay?” Jyn checks again, but Cassian flexes his fingers inside Bodhi and his brain fizzles, a bit. “Cassian!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Cassian says. Bodhi can hear the smile in his tone. “You’re not dying, are you, Bodhi?”

“Not dying,” Bodhi confirms, licking his lips. He can still taste Jyn. 

“Here, let me–” Jyn scoots down beside Bodhi on the mattress, tucking her face against his neck and sliding her hand down around his cock. Bodhi shivers, glad to be able to hide his face in her hair. The sensation is overwhelming: Cassian’s fingers inside and Jyn’s twisting over the head in perfect time.

Cassian looks up through his lashes, works his fingers in and halfway out in a slow, lazy rhythm. His cock stands up against his belly, dark pink at the head, and Bodhi almost can’t decide if he’d rather taste it or have it in him. “May I?” Cassian asks.

Bodhi nods. 

Jyn kisses his throat. “I wanna see that.”

“Of course you do,” Cassian quips back, more fond than anything else. “Gimme a second, Bodhi,” he mutters.

“What, you need to get ready?” Jyn laughs, warm against Bodhi's shoulder. 

“It’s _polite_ to let him know I need to pull my fingers out,” Cassian rolls his eyes, thumbing at the ticklish skin of Bodhi’s inner thigh.

“I think he knows that's necessary.”

Bodhi whines, anyway, when Cassian draws his fingers out, uses the same hand to slick himself up. Jyn tangles her fingers with Bodhi’s, tips her head to kiss his neck.

“You're good,” Jyn assures him. “So good, Bodhi.”

Cassian sucks on his lip, still swollen from where Bodhi nipped it, as he lines himself up, nudges the tip of his cock against Bodhi. “Spread your legs a little more?” He asks, uses his free hand under Bodhi’s thigh to help.

Bodhi stretches and eases his legs wider, hooks one knee over Jyn's to make her laugh. 

“Good, there we go,” Cassian grins, watches Bodhi’s face as he nudges in, careful. “So good.”

Jyn presses up against his side, sandwiching his leg with both of hers. 

Cassian shifts down onto his elbows over Bodhi and tucks his face against Bodhi's shoulder, opposite Jyn. Bodhi breathes, caught up in Jyn’s scent and Cassian’s sweat, and moans as Cassian slides, almost too slow, too measured.

Jyn is slick against his thigh, and Bodhi wants to touch her but it's too painful an angle for his hand, and he pets her hip awkwardly instead. She seems content to rub off against his leg, and Bodhi could focus on that if it weren’t for Cassian inside him, pushing in deeper with each thrust, gasping into the hollow above Bodhi’s collarbone.

“How does he feel?” Jyn's lips brush Bodhi’s jaw, nuzzle at his ear. 

Bodhi licks his lips. It takes him a couple of half-stuttered tries to form words. “Kriffing good,” he rasps, wishes he could hold onto both of them at the same time, but. This will do. “So full.”

Jyn's smile is sharp, and she nips at his ear. “I was asking Cassian.”

“Kriffing good,” Cassian repeats, and Bodhi can feel him smiling, too.

“Insufferable,” Jyn mutters, hitches her leg up a little higher around Bodhi’s. Cassian keeps all three of them moving, hip knocking into Jyn’s knee as he thrusts.

“Can you-- like this?” Cassian asks, kissing Bodhi's jaw, his stubble rasping and catching on the thin beard Bodhi’s been growing. 

Bodhi's barely been thinking about his dick this entire time, and the question catches him off-guard. 

“What if I,” Jyn says, and squirms her scarred little hand between them, cupping Bodhi's dick up against Cassian's stomach. 

“Yes,” Bodhi decides, “yeah, yes, definitely.”

Cassian laughs, and Jyn kisses his shoulder. “Any time you like,” Cassian says, voice a little tight. “I'm pretty--”

“He's pretty close,” Jyn finishes. “His face is doing that funny thing.”

Cassian hisses at her, and Bodhi opens his eyes to check. He definitely is making the stupid face Bodhi loves so much. 

“Ridiculous,” he grins, rocks his hips with Cassian’s thrusts, rubbing up into Jyn’s hand.

It’s a matter of seconds before Bodhi’s squeezing his eyes shut again, gasping as Jyn thumbs roughly at the ridge of his cockhead, messy and closer than he thought he’d been.

“There you go,” Jyn hums, nuzzling his shoulder, “Bodhi, c’mon.”

Bodhi buries his face in Jyn’s hair and Cassian takes it as an opportunity to duck down and bite at his pulse, and it’s game over from there. Bodhi moans, probably a little too loud for the thin walls on base to contain it, shaking as he comes over Cassian’s belly and his own, come dripping on Jyn’s fingers.

Cassian shudders above him, mouth still hot against Bodhi’s throat, and goes still. 

Jyn's fingers comb through Bodhi's hair, pushing it back behind his ears. 

Bodhi isn’t a fan of the sticky sweaty mess that follows, but he’s also not a fan of moving, in general, when he’s at the center of a warm, exhausted, happy pile-up. He tips his head over towards Cassian’s and breathes.

“I'm gonna-- hold on,” Cassian whispers, easing back carefully, his hand on Bodhi’s hip. “Sorry.”

Jyn yawns. Bodhi keeps his leg tangled up with Cassian’s, even after he pulls out. “Nnngh,” Bodhi says, rather eloquently.

Cassian pats his hip and settles beside him, reaching across Bodhi’s stomach, hand outstretched. Jyn lets her fingers, still sticky, rest against his palm.

“You’re gonna hate it in the morning if you fall asleep like this,” Cassian warns, knuckles at Bodhi’s hip with his other hand.

“We could all do with a shower,” Jyn agrees.

“Five minutes,” Bodhi counters.

Jyn and Cassian don’t even bother arguing. They can be sticky and warm a little longer.

“Thanks,” Bodhi says, quietly. 

He probably won't ever be able to be more specific than that: thanks for the sex and the changed bandanges and the shared dinners and for the fact they made it off Scarif, even though that seems impossible, most days. 

He’s pretty sure Cassian and Jyn get it, either way.


End file.
